


Love Brings Life

by Jathis



Category: Sofia the First (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece, First Meetings, Fluff, Forehead Touching, Inspired by Pygmalion and Galatea (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29127717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/pseuds/Jathis
Summary: Cedric the sculptor has a personal project he has been working on for months.
Relationships: Baileywick/Cedric the Sorcerer
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	Love Brings Life

The king was forcing himself to smile as politely as he could. The smile however did not reach his eyes, making it obvious to those who knew him that he was lying. “It’s...nice,” he said, holding his smile in place.

His shoulders fell immediately and he hunched over, crossing his arms over his chest. He was not unused to hearing the king say that. It still didn’t make it hurt any less. “But?” he prompted.

Roland looked at the statue Cedric had presented to him. He tilted his head one way and then the other. “I...what is it supposed to be?” he finally asked.

The sculptor barely bit back a growl. Roland was still king and execution was still very much a real concept. “It’s the Minotaur battling a basilisk,” he said.

“Oh…” Roland stared at the oddly shaped piece of marble again. It didn’t look like much of anything but random shapes and angles. He took a step back and tilted his head again, narrowing his eyes. “Oh now I see it!” he said, trying to sound positive.

“You hate it,” Cedric said.

“Not hate per se…” he said.

The sculptor snorted and started to collect his things. “I shall have it destroyed and try again,” he growled.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Not everyone can be as great a sculptor as your father was,” Roland offered.

Cedric wished he hadn’t said anything at all. Once out of sight he hurled the statue to the ground, watching as it shattered and scattered all over the floor. He stormed past the servants running over to clean up, muttering darkly to himself as he went back to his workshop.

He came from a long line of royal sculptors. His father was considered to be the finest one of all, designing nine and a half statues for the former king to decorate the land and temples with. The man’s name was known across several kingdoms and his work was still praised to this day.

Cedric hated him for it. People expected Cedric to be a perfect copy of his father. The gray bangs he had been born with were declared some kind of omen from the Gods, marking him for greatness like his father. This however only worked if he did things exactly as his father had done. When he did not meet their impossible standards, it was seen as a failing on his part and not on their thinking. 

He had heard several people whisper that it was a shame the Gods’ blessing was wasted on him. It seemed he would never be able to get out of that man’s shadow and the thought made him furious.

“Poseidon’s Pumpkins! What do they know about art?” he snarled as he slammed the door shut. “Stupid King Roland! The man would be happier if I just made a sculpture of his favorite food!” He looked up as he was answered with a sharp caw. He held out his arm and a raven flew onto it. “Wormwood,” he hummed, stroking the bird’s chest with a finger.

He had found the raven years ago. It was just a scrawny thing, kicked out of its nest for being too small and weak compared to the other chicks. Cedric found an odd kinship with the rejected bird and took him in. The raven returned to him everyday in gratitude and for an easy meal.

“Oh Wormy! Whatever am I going to do?” he sighed, wandering his workshop. “The king still doesn’t have the intelligence to properly appreciate my work! It is as if I were throwing jewels before a brain dead ox!” The image of Roland as an ox made him snort, a smile touching his lips. “He would look better in a yoke than that crown of his,” he murmured.

The raven flew off, landing on something covered with a thick piece of fabric. It cawed, pecking at the material before fluttering off when Cedric got closer.

“This...I don’t even know if I shall ever finish this,” Cedric confessed, pulling the sheet off. He stared at the partially finished sculpture and sighed. The ground and feet were complete and some of the legs were being carved into the desired shape but the rest was still untouched marble, mocking him.

Wormwood flew onto his shoulder and seemed to caw at him in a questioning manner.

He had been working on this on and off for several months now. He refused to be rushed with this one. Something about the marble told him to work carefully with it. “Perhaps my work is a waste of marble and supplies,” he said.

“Master Ceedric? Master Ceedric!”

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from groaning aloud. Quickly the sheet was thrown over the incomplete work and he whirled around as the youngest princess came into view. “I distinctly remember saying something about knocking last time you were here,” he said.

The princess however was undeterred by the annoyed look the servant gave her. She smiled as she walked over, patting Wormwood on the head briefly before turning back to Cedric. “You said you would teach me how to make gems out of clay today,” she said.

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose that is what we shall do today,” he sighed. “Come along, child.” The princess walked beside him, happily telling him about how her day had been so far. He tried not to pay attention or enjoy her company and failed.

Later that night, Cedric worked on his secret sculpture again.

***

His sister and her child came to visit him. He despised his sister but greatly enjoyed spending time with his niece. His sister had lain with someone far below her station but it was decided that the blood of the mother was what mattered, even if the father was a foreign slave.

Cedric’s niece always praised him for the things he did. The smallest clay pot made her eyes go wide in wonder, declaring him to be the best sculptor in the whole world. She had even taken some white clay and smeared it onto her head, trying to emulate her uncle’s odd appearance.

He found himself oddly inspired while she was there and he worked on his secret sculpture at night, his niece’s smile and praise still in his head.

***

“What do you keep under there, Master Ceedric?”

“It’s Cedric,” he murmured, focusing on keeping an even speed with the pottery wheel.

“But what’s under there?” Sofia pressed.

“What’s under whe..?” Cedric’s eyes widened briefly in panic as the little girl took hold of the sheet and he knocked over the clay and wheel as she pulled it off. “Wait!”

Sofia stared up at what had been hidden. She tilted her head, studying the carved marble. “He has a kind face,” she finally said.

“I...what?” He frowned as he looked down at the girl, stopping in his attempt to quickly cover his work up again. He looked back at the incomplete sculpture, raising an eyebrow. Little by little he had been able to work up to the chest, deciding on a masculine figure in the plain clothes of a servant or slave. The face however still eluded him and the marble remained untouched.

“The statue,” Sofia said. She looked at Cedric as if this were obvious. “He has a kind face,” she said.

“I haven’t even touched the location of his face with the chisel!” Cedric huffed.

“No, but I can tell. He’s got a kind face. Older and smart too.”

“Yes, well the day I take artistic advice from a child is the day I make myself a pair of wax wings to join Wormy for an afternoon flight!” he said, throwing the sheet over his work.

The princess said nothing, going back to help clean up the mess he had made.

***

Her words haunted him for weeks afterward. He stopped covering his work and found himself unable to focus on anything else but completing it. He had been scolded for several projects being overdue but surprisingly the little princess had defended him, insisting that he was a great sculptor who needed time to make his best work.

Cedric found himself appreciating the child’s friendship and visits to his workshop. She would look at his work and mention something about the figure underneath that inspired him in its design. He found that he would not have gotten as much done as he had without her.

He thought of this as he gently used a brush to clean the statue’s face. Sofia had been right, he did have a kind face. The little girl had also mentioned an odd looking object to place on his nose. She claimed it would help him see. Cedric didn’t know what she was talking about but he had to admit that he rather liked the way it looked. 

He stared at his statue. He reached up slowly, placing a hand on its cold cheek. This was the best thing he had ever made and most likely would ever make in his life. He ran his thumb over its face as if comforting a living thing. Cedric slowly leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the statue’s. 

Wormwood let out a loud caw and Cedric snapped out of his thoughts. He lowered his hand and stepped away, sighing as he turned back to the works he had been told to finish. He needed to focus on other things besides a statue he had no intention of presenting to the king.

***

“Tomorrow is Aphrodite’s Festival. Are you going to leave an offering at her temple?”

Cedric snorted at the question. He and the princess were practicing her chisel work, using small pieces of marble for her to use. He shrugged, leaning back. “I have not had a reason to go there in a long time,” he said.

“But maybe this year you do!” Sofia chirped, happily chipping away at her block.

“And why do you say that?”

“Because I see how you look at your statue.”

He blushed and secretly cursed the child for being so observant. “Whatever could the goddess of love do for me?” he asked.

Sofia shrugged and said, “maybe she could help you find someone like your statue.”

“What makes you think I wish for such a thing?” Cedric asked, his cheeks burning a bright red.

The young princess just giggled and didn’t answer.

***

Cedric went when everyone else had already finished giving their offerings to the temple. He slipped in while everyone outside was celebrating, filling the streets with flowers and music. The sculptor approached the altar and looked around once more before starting.

He had brought a basket of pomegranates and flowers. He set the basket down before taking a step back, looking up at the statue of the goddess. He tried several times to come up with what to say but everything he tried came out awkward. 

“...oh Athena’s Arena! I’ve never done anything like this before,” he murmured. He shook his head, finding himself to be very foolish for even coming here. “She has more important things to do than listen to me,” he snorted, leaving the temple. The last thing he needed was to embarrass himself in front of the Gods.

He walked back to the castle and his workshop. Cedric mentally berated himself all the way back. “Why would you do that? Idiot! You haven’t been to a temple in years! If anything She would know that and end up making you fall in love with a puddle of piss or something as punishment!” He was still muttering to himself as he approached his workshop, opening the door to step inside.

Something was wrong. He stopped in the doorway, frowning to himself. He could see that several of his things had been moved around. Someone had touched his things. He looked up sharply when he heard a noise further inside. They were still here!

He picked up a chisel and held it like a knife. If this was some kind of thief he would make sure they would regret trying to rob him! Slowly he started to move towards the sound, bracing himself as his heart hammered in his ears. He wasn’t much of a fighter but he would certainly try!

“Come out whoever you are!” he called out. “You are in Cedric the Great’s workshop uninvited!”

The stranger in his workshop stepped into view. His eyes widened and the tool fell from his hand. “What..?”

The figure reached up, adjusting the glasses on their nose. The silver haired man looked around briefly before turning back to Cedric. “I thought perhaps you could use some help cleaning up in here,” he said. “You have everything just thrown around without any order. It’s impossible to work in such a place!”

Slowly he walked towards the stranger. He looked just like his statue made flesh, every detail exactly the same. Long slender legs, a strong chest, the eyes and weird object on his nose meant to help them function. From the corner of his eye he noticed the empty base where it had once stood and understanding came to him. Cedric reached out, pressing his palm against the other’s cheek.

The man blinked but did not pull away. He leaned into Cedric’s touch, laughing as he placed a hand over Cedric’s. “What is the matter? Is my cleaning up that upsetting to you?” he teased.

Cedric kissed him without thinking. He was soft and warm, a living thing. He was real and he was here in front of him. He pressed their foreheads together once he ended the kiss, afraid that he would disappear if he stopped touching him.

“You’re very affectionate today,” he hummed. “It seems someone has enjoyed Aphrodite’s Festival!”

“What do you remember?” Cedric asked.

He thought for a moment, frowning to himself. “I remember...something warm. Something warm and bright and then I was here,” he finally said. He shrugged, shaking his head. “I was here and saw the state of this place and started to clean.”

“Do you have a name?”

There was another moment of silence as he thought. “I...my name is...Baileywick,” he said. He blinked as the name seemed to click into place. His name was Baileywick. This was who he was.

“Baileywick,” Cedric repeated, smiling at the name. He kissed him again, his body shivering in pleasure as the other hugged him around his middle. It had been so long since anyone had held him like that. “My Baileywick.”

“Yours,” he agreed, holding the sculptor close.

Cedric promised himself to leave more offerings at Aphrodite’s altar in the morning.


End file.
